Carrying You, Carrying On
by Hymntanra
Summary: Their little affair is a torrid and ugly one. Luminous knows that he isn't the loved one, and Phantom knows the exact same thing. And it has to end eventually. onesided PhanLumi, PhanFreud.


**The story you have just read is NOT yours to take, rewrite, and claim as your own idea. After four instances of plagiarism related to my fanfiction, I am now obligated to place this on every one of my written works. I have given readers fair warning over and over again but it seems that unless I put it straight in your faces, you will not listen. If you ask my permission, fine! But if not...  
MY STORY IDEA IS NOT YOURS. DO NOT TAKE IT AND REWRITE IT.  
Enjoy the story, please.**

Carrying You, Carrying On

_i"With you on my back, I want to fly on,_

_watching the fate of this planet from over the skies."/i_

It hadn't started nice, and Luminous hadn't exactly figured it would end nice either. It was violent, lust-driven, primal…nothing that was in the slightest bit sophisticated. But they both knew that really, no matter the guise they put on, they were both wild animals underneath. Phantom was borderline insane sometimes, borderline terrifying with his outlook on the world despite his posh appearance and suave ways. Luminous figured himself better, but he knew that he was just full of it; he was just as bad, just as willing to lash out. Just needed something to trigger it. And he knew VERY well that underneath their attitudes, the both of them were very subtly driven by lust.

It was painful, violent, incorrect chemistry. A mistake, rather like an explosion caused by a high school student that had no idea how to control the chemicals. It was never elegant, never affection, always borderline forceful. Under many circumstances, Luminous was quite sure that it occasionally bordered on molestation, even rape. He supposed either of them could have cried it but that would mean losing that primal pleasure.

And neither could have that.

No matter what happened, at least at the end of the week Luminous would find himself in Phantom's bed. Sometimes it was sooner, sometimes it was less elegant, sometimes it was more dangerous. Sometimes it was entirely based on flairs of lust that burned out of nowhere, so hot and vibrant that it had to happen right then and right there right against that tree where they could easily be found…

i_But who cares?/i_

Luminous digs his fingers into the bark; he still wore the majority of his clothing, besides his pants and boxers that have been forced to his knees. His legs are far apart and Phantom is flush against his back, masturbating the lithe man below him as he rubs against the opening. How humiliating, how embarrassing, how unfitting. Thought that Luminous would later wish he had been thinking, while instead he lets out breathy pants at Phantom's ministrations.

And almost, i_almost/i_ a piercing scream as Phantom pushes in; Luminous cannot prevent it, only quelled by a gloved hand over his mouth as the silver haired man was thrust into repeatedly. It's never slow; always fast and impatient, so desperate to reach the breaking point and just find relief. It hurts to go so fast, both in mind and body. Luminous tenses as his eyes roll back; his body shakes and he fears collapse as that sweet spot is rammed so repeatedly—so i_quickly/i_, so perfectly.

It is not long until release; the grass below is splattered, but Phantom does not cease. Luminous figures him to be so close, so ready as he lets out a groan against the white fabric of Luminous' top. The movement stops and Phantom buries himself as deep as he can go; with a loud moan (likely heard by the few people milling around, not that they care) he releases within and whispers against Luminous's shoulder.

The man wrinkles his nose at what he hears; it happens every time, and it bothers him every time. Luminous doesn't even know if Phantom is aware of it. If he is, the thief at least attempts to be ignorant of it Freud, Freud, i_Freud/i_, he would whisper in that one instance where they are sweat soaked and delirious. It always sounds so desperate and full of i_need/i_ and i_longing/i_ and it is painful to hear.

Very painful.

Luminous passes it off as that it is aggravating to hear people cry other names during sex. No one wants that—it's something that people just have to put up with when in a relationship based on cheap fucks. He supposes, really, that it is some deep emotional trigger that would hurt even the cheapest of whores. The sex brought the pleasure. The names of others brought the inadvertent misery that reminds the partner that they are in a meaningless, heartless relationship that is ultimately unhealthy for both parties.

i_Freud, Freud, __**bFreud/b./i**_

Oh, how his hate for that name had grown.

He couldn't BLAME Freud, of course; the other mage hadn't exactly walked up and draped himself onto Phantom while asking for sex. No, Freud never did much of anything that could pass as an attempt at seduction; the most he would give was a knowing and wry smile that did not give any invitation. But he was i_there/i_. He provided Phantom with conversation and mental support—a healthy, active, and deep friendship based on an odd unspoken respect. Phantom and Freud, they connected on some different level. A level that Luminous knew he could not connect with to Phantom.

i_Why not? That's not fair./i_

Luminous would mentally slap himself for that; what a ridiculous thought. Of course it was fair. Freud was Phantom's smart and good friend who was always there; outside of the sex, Luminous was borderline enemies with the blonde thief. Of course it was i_fair/i_ for Freud to connect with Phantom—they were friends, they treated each other with respect. Luminous couldn't find a single compliment to apply to the thief.

Maybe, he would think, maybe that's what makes it so unfair. FREUD can connect to Phantom, FREUD can speak rationally to Phantom, FREUD can have Phantom's respect. Luminous couldn't find a way to do ANY of that—no matter what he spoke of with the thief, they just ended up at each other's throats. He figures he can't do any of this because just like Phantom, he is not good with feelings. Luminous has far too much pride to acknowledge weaker emotion, meager emotions. And Phantom is exactly the same.

i_We are not people most suited to each other. And yet here I am, sitting in his bed once again on this cold and forlorn Sabbath Day./i_ Inwardly, Luminous gives a harsh and dark laugh; how pitiful that he be jerking his body up and down onto another man's body like this on such a day. Phantom ignores the choked sound, instead resting strong fingers on bony hips to thrust upwards. Luminous lets out a sharp hiss; it builds, it breaks, the soft whisper of that familiar name breaths out afterward.

"You fucker." Luminous breathes softly. Phantom raises a brow as his grip on the silver haired man loosens. "You son of a bitch."

"What the hell is wrong now?" Phantom says, his annoyance quickly rising. Luminous figures that would happen; doesn't it always? They cannot be kind to each other. That is taboo. There is an unspoken rule says that they never show kindness to each other. It would be betrayal; Luminous to his emotions, and Phantom to his precious sweet little smiling and smart DRAGON MASTER. Luminous hisses inadvertently but halts himself. He has to remind himself that it is not Freud's fault and Freud is a perfectly kind person and doesn't deserve the kind of spite that Luminous occasionally feels for him.

"Nothing." Luminous mumbles, pushing off the blonde to pull his white tunic back over his head. It ruffles up his already messy hair. And immediately, he flees the room. Phantom shrugs and lays back to drift into sleep.

i_I HATE you, you son of a bitch./i _His petty feelings are taking over as he stalks through the halls. No one dares speak to him; Mercedes, Freud, and Aran all know that look and all know to steer clear of it. There's an uncontrolled rage in Luminous and they all know it has been mounting lately. They simply don't know why. i_Why are you doing this? Why must you be like this, why must this hurt? It's not SUPPOSED to hurt, it's supposed to be cheap fucking behind the scenes. _

_ It's his fault. _

_ It's all his fault./i_

One night is different from what Luminous is used to.

It seems normal at first, just casually entering the room like nothing special was going on behind them for the last six months. The room was as dark as it usually was but there was a different aura. It smelled different. Fragrant. Like sweet mandarin oil. Luminous could not find the source; he figured it had been some sort of perfume. It was what it had to be. But for all of his effort, he couldn't decide an actual reason for the scent to be there. It had never been there. The bed had never been so neatly made.

Phantom had never been sitting there so quietly, staring so intensely. Luminous began to feel nervous; this was not normal. This wasn't how it was DONE. But against his will, he slowly found himself edging closer to the red sheeted bed to stand in front of the blonde. Phantom took the other man's waist and pulled him close. Luminous fidgeted a bit but allowed himself to be dragged down underneath the covers. Allowed his lips to be taken and smothered but not like usual; not rough, not leaving abusive hard red marks. His silver eyelashes fluttered shut against his will.

i_What IS this?/i_

Such strange sensations courses through his blood; a warm fire that was unfamiliar and yet so familiar at the same time. That fire burned far stronger than previous nights. It burns his veins as every sensitive spot on his body is caressed and treated with care, as he is treated with this odd and unexpected i_affection/i_. As it starts with preparations instead of violent invasion, as Phantom goes slow and paces himself and rocks so caringly against the lithe body underneath him.

i_This is so satisfying. So much more than the other./i_

In the cooling air of the aftermath, Phantom whispers. And it sends far more chills down his spine than Phantom EVER gives him by saying Freud's name.

"I'm sorry."

And immediately Luminous knows that the game is done. He watches from behind a slightly open door as it fully shatters. He watches as Phantom holds Freud tight against himself, as the other mage's hands tighten on the white jacket. As it begins, as the brunette kisses him lightly on the cheek and they speak in low tones with apologies and affection. THEY have finally accepted it and the cheap sex has disappeared with that finalization.

Luminous watches on through that crack in the door, face blank and empty. He walks away from the door with no words, although he can feel Aran and Mercedes watching him from the other side of the hall with both confusion and pity. They do not fully understand, and they know that. Luminous figures that he feels exactly the same as they do; he is angry and unhappy and miserable and he just can't understand why this is happening.

i_You fucker. You son of a bitch./i_

He tries to concentrate during the battle with the Black Mage—this is, after all, the i_final/i_ battle and there isn't any going back. But his mind is elsewhere and his actions feel so empty; he speaks to Phantom before he enters the Temple of Time. He throws insults and they exchange petty conversation. It tears at Luminous' insides—he has a LOT that he would like to say but it just isn't working. He can't say anything. It won't come out. His emotions refuse to betray him. So Luminous lets the blonde thief teleport off and with a grimace, heads into the Temple of Time.

And he fucks it up.

He KNOWS, he knows so painfully that he could have prevented his fuck up. It would have been as simple as focusing. If he kept Freud's words in mind, he knows this would not have happened. Perhaps, he figures, it is good for him in a way. HE messed up, and he knows he is to suffer for it—and besides, being three hundred years in the future was a good place to start anew. But the Black Mage's curse haunts him.

i_Maybe it is just an incarnation of all those negative emotions. Maybe it just intensified something that was always there./i_ He thinks bitterly, and seeing Phantom staring stupidly at him from across a table simply verifies that. It's the same exact jealous, petty emotion from before but it's even worse as the Black Mage's curse eats at his soul. It tells him to do so many horrible things—i_hold him down, take him, do what you please whether he likes it or not—/i_but Luminous knows it would be bitter and tasteless and would leave him just as unhappy as he already was, if not moreso.

i_I want what I got that one, solitary night, but I want it without the 'I'm sorry' and without the bitter taste of defeat. And no amount of dark hearted desire from the curse will fulfill that./i_

What a bitter, empty feeling it was to look across that table into Phantom's eyes and know that absolutely nothing had changed.

And nothing ever would.

_iEven if everything in this world shall be lost,_

_Even if mankind meets an end,_

_I would still want to fly on, with you on my back,_

_watching the fate of this planet from over the skies./i_


End file.
